


In Another Life

by MystikSpiral



Category: Marvel 616
Genre: Angst, First Kiss, Incursion, M/M, New Avengers, So much angst, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-24
Updated: 2014-08-24
Packaged: 2018-02-14 11:01:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2189223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MystikSpiral/pseuds/MystikSpiral
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Tony and Steve had spent their last moments together</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Another Life

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of New Avengers #23, instead of Tony dying alone he's with Steve, beta'd by Morphia

_1 hour until incursion_

Steve presses a firm hand to Tony’s shoulder, “I’m not,” Tony says, only holding the bottle of scotch but knowing he doesn’t want to spend his last few moments wallowing in even more regret. He sets the bottle down, knowing in the deep recess of his mind he wouldn’t be able to stomach it anyway, just looking at it makes him queasy.

“I know. I just…” Steve doesn’t finish his sentence, but Tony can connect the dots, he backs away from the bar that looks as if it’s never been touched.  Time is nearing but they both refuse to talk about anything. He wonders how the others are handling it; wonders if it’s any better than he's doing right now.

He sinks into the couch from across the bar, for once not letting his thoughts wander. He knows it’s his fault, so what’s the point of confessing it now? Steve looks as if he’s expecting him to break at any second, stagnant, tensing his jaw, which is nothing new. It's clear, however, in this moment, that he’s waiting for something Tony just can’t seem to give.

_50 minutes until incursion_

“Talk to me,” Tony says, needing to hear something else other than the thumping of his own heart.

Steve takes in a breath, then, “What do you want to hear?” He doesn’t look at Tony directly. Other things are on his mind, and Tony knows that—but he doesn’t want to talk about that.

“Anything,” _Anything but this_ , he doesn’t vocalize, but his voice is pleading in a way that implies it.

There’s a brief moment of silence. He figures he’s racking his brain for something that’s not panic and fear, though his eyes say otherwise. Tony’s eyes have been vacant for too long.

“I’ve never wanted the typical marriage with children. I—I’ve never known what I’ve wanted outside of being Captain America, so anything emotionally excessive is foreign.” The words are spoken slowly, as if he’d just gotten around to confessing this to himself.

Tony listens carefully, not surprised at all by this statement, but finding certain things a lot more clear. “I’ve always wanted to marry and have kids, but after a while, I realized it would be impossible. A part of me still hoped to one day have something… good.”

They make full on eye contact this time, Steve’s jaw tenses a bit more.

“I wanted a daughter, and I wanted to name her Maria,” He says while picking at the skin on his thumb. He’s pausing in between sentences, grabbing words from thin air and trying to piece them.  Steve just stares. He does that a lot when he’s determining an answer, it never comes.

_40 minutes until incursion_

They’ve been sitting in silence for a few minutes now; Tony always pictured their last moments together differently. He’s not able to specify what he means by differently but he knows he didn’t want dead silence and blank stares. He didn’t want to look around the room he barely stays in and now have the ability to break the structure down piece by piece, come up with reasons not to like the harsh lines and linear shapes.  He didn’t want to be seduced by clear bottles with diluted liquid inscribed with lettering he could give a damn about, as long as the alcohol content is high enough to obstruct thinking. Even though the bottles are staring back he's not going to give in. His last moments of giving into his downfall would be something that’d leave his soul restless.

There are a million ways he’s wanted Steve and not one seems right—regardless, he can see himself giving in if Steve would be the one to make the first move.

_20 minutes until incursion_

Tony doesn’t remember who initiated what, but their lips are on each other’s at the moment, Steve is whispering something in between kisses and Tony only hums in agreement. He’s been mentally keeping track of the time, knowing they don’t have enough time for sex or anything beyond kissing. If he's honest, he needs more time for this too.

Almost ten years he’s been waiting for this, and as of right now, it feels empty, but Tony keeps going, searching, chasing Steve’s lips in an attempt to find him.  There’s a disconnect, there’s always a disconnect and Tony’s sure it’s him and not Steve, not that it matters now.

Steve’s hands combing through his hair is what he needs to calm the tremors. Sure, he doesn’t stop shaking, but it’s still soothing. Tony let’s himself submit to his touch, saying his name gently, almost begging , Steve asks him what he needs and Tony shakes his head to signify 'nothing'.

_10 minutes until incursion_

They stopped kissing. Steve’s head is in Tony’s lap and they’re silent again. Tony gapes his mouth open to say words, but the only thing he can think of is relaying how much time they have.  It’s funny, he’s been faced with death so many times, but never has he felt so useless. He always has a way out, and this time… this time, destruction is inevitable.

Steve’s cowl is tossed on the floor allowing Tony to finally feel the blond strands on his fingertips; it’s nice.  

“I never asked if you believed in the afterlife,” Steve asks.

“… Even if I believed in an afterlife, we both know we're not going to the same place.” Tony says in a near whisper. He looks down at Steve’s face, tense again.

“You should stop blaming yourself.”

“You should stop pretending like it’s not my fault… all of this is my fault.”

Steve makes a shushing noise, pulling Tony's head down into a slow kiss, locking their fingers together, and again, Tony's still searching for more in the seven minutes they have, six minutes now.

Tony pulls away first, pushing their foreheads together and smiling. He’s not sure if the smile is genuine, but Steve smiles back. Time is drawing nearer, and Tony doesn’t want to face what will be his mistake, blowing him to pieces, his miscalculation ripping him to shreds. His final regret is clutching his hand and is warm in his lap. In another life, he’d be okay with himself enough to enjoy this. In another life, he won’t be counting down each second in his head down to the last one. In another life, he’ll have a daughter named Maria, maybe a son too, a family in a suburban area; he’ll look over his past work and smile without an ounce of regret. In another life, he’ll make sure to calculate each formula over and over until his fingers bleed, the result will make sense this time. In another life, he won’t wait almost a decade.

But as of right now, they have ten seconds, their hands are holding tight enough to ache. Steve’s still on his lap, everything feels slow. In another life, Tony thinks to himself.

_Incursion_

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
